


remember me

by CloudDreamer



Category: The 100, The 100 (TV), clexa - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, F/F, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, Pain, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-20
Updated: 2016-09-20
Packaged: 2018-08-16 08:48:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8095693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CloudDreamer/pseuds/CloudDreamer
Summary: it's clarke's first birthday since lexa died. tw: self harm references, suicide references, alcohol one shot. no caps on purpose.





	

clarke sat on a swing, digging her feet into the ground. her eyes were pale and dull.

"happy birthday, to me," she mumbled. "happy birthday to me."

raven had told her to get up and do something earlier, but not on clarke's birthday. it was the first birthday since the accident. the first birthday since everything... happened. no. the first birthday since nothing. since nothing happened. nothing happy, nothing good, nothing joy. nothing warm. nobody to hold her, to touch her, to kiss her in the way only lexa could. 

a year ago   


_lexa would wake her up with a giggle and turn the lights on._

_clarke would laugh back and try to burrow under the covers, but lexa would throw them back._

_she would worm her way into the bed and they'd end up cuddling for an hour, laughing together._

_on her last birthday, lexa had got her a tattoo._ clarke traced the tattoo, an infinity sign, on the inside of her wrist. __

_clarke whispered her name and reached out for someone who wasn't coming._

_a drop of rain fell from the sky, splashing onto her head._

_then another one.  
_

rain fell faster and faster, soaking through her clothes. her messy knot of hair fell across her back. the cold dripping down her back stung, but she ignored it. the pain on the outside could not compare to the agony she knew was on the inside. she was pain. 

a teardrop dripped off of her face and joined the maelstorm. 

"happy birthday to me," she mumbled. 

she didn't want to remember what she was happy to be. what was she? what would she remember if she wasn't afraid to? what if she could forget? would she forget lexa's face? the way she would trace clarke's lips with her soft fingers? would she forget her taste on clarke's lips? would she? 

if it meant not having to hurt this way?

no. 

she deserved to feel this pain. she wanted to feel her clothes soak into her skin and raise goosebumps on her arms. clarke didn't know what she could do without lexa by her side. what was wrong with her? could she just fail? just find a hole to sink into and cry forever. 

what did she want. 

clarke didn't want anything. she would give away all the gold in the world for a single smile from lexa. 

dead body, dead mind, dead touch, dead lips... dead, dead, dead. 

dead is a funny word, isn't it. isn't it hilarious that she will never sleep again, feel again, breathe, again? all she wanted was someone to love, and clarke had let her get hurt. why. 

she felt a chill drip into her bones. her body was weak and soggy, like a piece of fabric laid out in the rain. in a rain that would last forever. her hair was soaked, weighing heavy on her head. Each rain drop was like a punch to her gut. losing balance. losing memory. remember her. remember what she would have wanted. but what she would've wanted didn't matter because she wasn't here. 

losing her. 

losing memory of her face. 

each memory was like the knife, slicing into her flesh. blood was dripping through her skin. her body was shutting down, trying to remember. she coughed and the weather was so cold. she shook from side to side, trying to breathe. there was no knife. there was no blood. 

the wind shook through her clothes, pushing the swing back and forth. 

"Clarke!" someone was shouting through the rain, but clarke didn't want to hear it. she leaned her head into her arms, drops shaking off of her. she was so cold. her body was freezing. she was barely awake, barely asleep. her memory was fragmenting and shattering. 

lexa's face, lexa's arms, reaching out for her. "Clarke, what are you doing out here, you'll catch your death." 

that was not lexa. was it?

someone was offering her a jacket and pulling her to my feet. clarke stumbled over a shattered bottle on the ground and the girl reached down to pick it up. 

"Clarke, have you been drinking?" raven asked. "Look, I know you miss Lexa, but this isn't the way to grieve." 

"what is is is." clarke's voice shook. 

"Are you trying to get yourself killed? Lexa would want you to move on." 

"no," clarke said. "i'm not trying to die. i'm trying to live."

"This isn't a life," said raven. she wrapped her jacket around clarke's shoulders and pulled her to her feet. "you're surviving, Clarke. How long has it been since you smiled?"

"too soon," clarke said. "i can't. i'm sorry, raven. i'm sorry." 

"You have to," raven said, pulling her into the house on the hill. The warmth was so bright and blinding, clarke stumbled over her feet. "Happy birthday, Clarke."

The door slammed in Clarke's face.


End file.
